


It is art, but you wear it

by redsnake05



Category: Wellington Paranormal (TV)
Genre: Bad fancy dress, Demons, Gen, World of Wearable Art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: O'Leary and Minogue investigate a problem with a WOW collection. They find a startling garage, rather too much sheer mesh and industrial leather, and a hidden assault on parliamentary democracy.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	It is art, but you wear it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lc2l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lc2l/gifts).



"But why do they call it wearable art?" asked Minogue, as he and O'Leary made their way down a narrow driveway towards a shabby looking little cottage with a surprisingly sleek garage next to it. The issue was exercising his mind. He was a big fan of decent clothing, and didn't hate all art on principle, but the intersection was proving difficult.

"Because it's art, but you wear it," said O'Leary. She had to admit that she wasn't really sure what they were going to find, and the quick image search she'd done had shown that some of it didn't really look like art, and some of it wasn't really wearable, but she didn't want to get into that with Minogue.

"Like fancy dress?" said Minogue, slightly horrified. "Because I don't really hold with fancy dress. Not since that time with the fancy dress police woman who tried to get my handcuffs."

O'Leary chose not to remind him that the woman had not only actually gotten the handcuffs, but had successfully managed to cuff Minogue to a chair. Without his pants. The less either of them remembered that little incident the better, really. 

They paused, unsure if they should go towards the house or the shed. The house had a bohemian air, like the inside would offer gauzy curtains, herbal tea and inadequate insulation. The garage, on the other hand, looked like it had landed on the tiny site straight from the future. It was sleek black and grey and red, almost like a sphinx head, if it was made from black steel girders and polished monolithic concrete. She looked back up the winding, overgrown driveway. It didn't seem possible that they could even have accessed the site to build it. 

"It looks a bit like a spaceship dropped it here," said Minogue. 

"Unlikely," said O'Leary, considering it. Although, as she tilted her head again, it wasn't really that much more unlikely than it actually being built.

A woman came out of the garage and walked towards them. It was more of a glide, really, like she was sweeping over a red carpet instead of over a rough concrete driveway filled with dandelions. It could even be considered a prowl, if one was inclined to be fanciful, which, O'Leary told herself sternly, she definitely was not. She tucked her hands into the straps on her vest and tried to look taller.

"Hello," said Minogue, after a quick glance at O'Leary, just in case she wanted to take the lead, like she often did with beautiful women. "I'm Officer Minogue and this is Officer O'Leary. You called about a situation involving your wearable art?"

"How delightfully quick. I'm Lilita, the designer." She smiled at them both, and O'Leary rather felt like she might be floating just a little. Lilita's lipstick was the exact shade of fresh blood and her teeth were very even, and O'Leary had never considered herself delicious before, but that was what the smile suggested. "Come inside," Lilita continued, "let me show you the collection."

"It's not like fancy dress, is it?" said Minogue. "Because I'm not sure I approve of fancy dress."

"Oh, no, not like _costumes_ ," said Lilita. She seemed a little put out by the implication. "We certainly don't hold with dress ups or any of that nonsense, like cheap sexy police officers." Minogue sighed with relief. He really didn't need a repeat of _that_ incident on his record.

Lilita turned and led them towards the garage. O'Leary concentrated on the preposterous architecture and not on the shapely curve of Lilita's calves as she walked. Now that the vexed question of fancy dress had been settled, Minogue was able to consider the garage again.

"Was this dropped here from a spaceship?" he asked.

"Minogue!" snapped O'Leary, making a gesture to hush.

"Well, I just thought aliens might explain the problems they're having," said Minogue. "You're sure you haven't seen a spaceship?"

"Oh, I know a few people," said Lilita. "It's amazing what you can get done in this town, if you're keen enough."

"But how did you get it down the driveway?" he persisted. "Those exposed beams must have taken custom fabrication."

"Everything we do here is bespoke," said Lilita. They had reached the doors, like a great hungry mouth into the darkness inside, and she turned to gesture them in. The darkness was an illusion, and O'Leary wondered briefly how the door was shadowed while the space inside was warm with natural light. Architecture was a marvel, she supposed. 

"Look, O'Leary," said Minogue, pointing at the twin sculptures just inside the door. "Fangs."

O'Leary shushed him again, but she had to admit that the sharp-edged, gleaming white shapes did resemble nothing so much as teeth. She turned back to Lilita, who was smiling again, and noted that her teeth were also very white and even.

"Our design room and workshop," she said. "We're having a fitting this afternoon, so all our models are here." She waved towards a couple of huge, expensive looking sofas draped with beautiful people in virtually no clothes. Minogue waved, and a bevy of them flitted across the floor and surrounded him. If this was what wearable art was all about, he could see why it was so popular. 

"So, what exactly is the problem?" asked O'Leary, trying to ignore the giggles and cooing behind her.

"Let me show you the designs first," Lilita said, "and I think you'll understand why we've called you in." She herded O'Leary towards the mannequins, which seemed to largely consist of diaphanous gauzy shapes and some very industrial looking things that might have been serpentine tails or some kind of feathery, clawed, boots. It looked rather like someone had crossed those sexy angel costumes with gothic corsetry, but in a fancy way. Minogue drifted behind, half-heartedly brushing hands away from his vest buckles as a few of the models tried to persuade him that being undercover would be a necessary element of the investigation.

"This is the main piece of our collection," Lilita said. She stopped and casually untied the waist of her dress, letting it slip to the floor. O'Leary gaped for a second before quickly averting her eyes and half turning.

"Excuse me," she said, "no need for that."

"Oh, don't be embarrassed," said Lilita. O'Leary risked a glance to see her reaching for the gown, still completely naked. "You're here to see it, after all."

"The _collection_ ," O'Leary mumbled. "Just here to solve a problem with the collection."

"Oh, you'll be solving a problem," said Lilita. "Come, I'm perfectly decent."

O'Leary risked looking again and was relieved to see that Lilita was, in fact, now perfectly dressed, even if the gown was a little sheer. On the other hand, she was also now seven foot tall and sporting horns and vast wings. O'Leary firmly repressed the thought that she was still quite attractive.

"I don't believe we need a demonstration of your show," she said, keeping firmly businesslike. 

"It's very well made," interjected Minogue. "Look, O'Leary, these boots fit amazingly well."

She glanced over her shoulder and Minogue did a little shimmy. He rather liked the boots, though the feathers were a little shiny for everyday wear, and at least he'd kept his uniform trousers this time, so he wasn't sure why O'Leary was scowling at him.

"Look," said O'Leary, "you said your collection had some kind of problem, a paranormal problem, and we've come out in good faith to help you solve it."

"Oh, but you're already solving it," said Lilita, stepping closer. O'Leary had to crane her head quite uncomfortably to see her face, since she couldn't step back without bumping into Minogue and his posse of models in costumes. "Come now, don't you want to join us? Throw off that restrictive vest and unbutton that starched shirt? I have just the artwork for you." She gestured to the next mannequin over.

O'Leary squinted briefly at the outfit. Too much see-through mesh for her taste, and the fur was a bit odd. She tilted her head.

"Is that a _hedgehog_ outfit?" she said, outraged. Minogue was distracted from dancing around in his new boots long enough to look. It did look disconcertingly like a small, round, adorably prickly hedgehog rendered in chiffon, mesh and black leather.

"Yes, and won't you look delightful in it?" asked Lilita. "Part of legion of demons, ready to lure people in and suck their energy with your spiky, adorable energy!"

"I am not spiky or adorable," said O'Leary, fending off two of the models from trying to unbuckle her vest. "And I am not going be part of any demon legion thank you very much. I have enough hobbies that I already have to fit round my work."

"But, you can meet anyone. Seduce anyone!" said Lilita. She sounded rather stunned, but O'Leary wasn't the sort to go flinging off her uniform for the dubious cover of something flimsier than your average tea towel.

"No, thank you," said O'Leary, standing as tall and not adorably as possible. "And since the only problem you've got with this collection is an absence of modesty, I don't think we can help you today."

Lilita grew even taller, and her hands now lengthened into long, barbed claws. However threatening the change, her face stayed sweet and cajoling. 

"I'll let you seduce Kiri Allen," she said. "You can have her all to yourself."

"I'll have you know that the 53rd Parliament has a diverse and extensive rainbow caucus!" O'Leary said. "While Kiri Allen is a well-respected member of that group, known for her extensive knowledge of provincial New Zealand, commercial primary industry, public law, and conservation, she is not the only beautiful, I mean, talented, rainbow MP!"

"If you won't see sense, then you will have to be shown it forcefully!" said Lilita. O'Leary barely noticed when she burst flames from her claws and lifted from the floor with a great flap of her wings, Minogue definitely did. He looked around for shelter and ran behind one of the large sofas, immediately being dragged to the ground by one of the models.

"Oooh, matching boots," he said.

"I am here to take over this wretched little place," screeched Lilita, "and I tried to do it the nice way, by inviting you to join us, politely. But I will have dominion either way."

"This is an affront to New Zealand's parliamentary democracy," said O'Leary. "I might be able to forgive some of the unfortunate theatrical elements to your fancy dress, yes, _fancy dress_ , but I will not see our state subdued to your demonic wiles."

Lilita shrieked with rage and sent two fireballs towards her, one of which singed her hair as she dodged it. O'Leary prudently started to back away as Lilita raised her arms towards the roof and started to chant in a much deeper, otherworldly voice. This was very good commitment to one's art, but, as the floor started to dissolve into a great, gaping pit underneath Lilita, likely to be uncomfortable for onlookers.

"Banish her," shouted Minogue, realising belatedly that O'Leary had forgotten the key words.

"Yes, thank you, Minogue, I was just about to do so," O'Leary said. "I banish you, in the name of our unbiased, secular, representative democracy. Also, the principles of the Treaty of Waitangi."

It was a bit of an anticlimax really. Lilita dropped through the hole in the floor, which promptly repaired itself into worn and cracked concrete, and the room returned to more normal proportions. 

O'Leary blinked as she looked around. It looked for all the world like a rather dingy suburban garage now. Minogue emerged from behind the sofa, now leaning drunkenly on only three legs and covered in dilapidated tartan.

"Oh, well, this is a bit different," he said. "I can see how they built an ordinary garage here."

O'Leary herded the confused models towards their clothes and the exit. "Sorry," she said, "we can't have our government toppled just so you can prance around in costume." She got everyone out the door and looked around for Minogue.

He was fully dressed, even his cap set at a respectable angle and his hair smoothed back into place. He gestured at his feet, though.

"I can't get them off," he said. He wasn't that disappointed. They did look a little incongruous with his uniform, but they were incredibly comfortable, and it was only the taloned claw part that was visible under his trousers, after all.

"Do you think you can run in them?" asked O'Leary, as they headed out the perfectly ordinary door and tilted it closed behind them.

"I think so," Minogue said. They followed the models up the driveway, turning a blind eye to the costumes they had tucked under their arms. It would make a nice change from sexy nurses at Halloween, at least.

"You know, I think I like wearable art now," said Minogue. "And I kept my trousers on this time, didn't I?"

"You did," agreed O'Leary. "A good morning's policing all round, I think." Minogue squawked as a claw got caught in a crack and he stumbled. 

"Still really comfortable," he said.


End file.
